Christmas is a busier than busy season for me because I…ahem…am a Victorian caroler.  Yes, it’s true!  Between Thanksgiving and Christmas, I, along with nine other carolers, sing our hearts out around the community, doing our best to spread Christmas hope and cheer.

In addition to creating beautiful harmonies, we dress in authentic Victorian clothing.  This means top hats, ascots, and coats with tails for the gentlemen.  And we ladies wear full length dresses with petticoats, capes and gloves, and bonnets. Dressing in early 19^th Century costume is indeed part of the delight and presentation of caroling.

When I joined the group last year, I spent much time searching patterns and fabrics for my Victorian gown.  I finally settled on a deep purple iridescent taffeta, and a black velvet cape and bonnet!  After much diligence and many adjustments, the dress was finally complete before the start of the singing season.  I was ready to embrace this Victorian role!

Early this season, after an evening of singing, I was taken aback by the sound of ripping fabric.  I had just settled into my car with crinolined skirts poufed up to the console, when my bonnet box slipped off the car seat. I impulsively twisted to catch it, causing a tear in the right undersleeve.  Nooooo!  I drove home with as little movement as possible and inspected the damage.  The tear was partly on the seam line, but also into the sleeve fabric.  I made phone calls the next morning and brought my dress to a “fashion tailor.”  She wonderfully lived up to her name. She cut out the damaged section and repaired it with a fabric scrap I’d brought.  What a relief!  The gown was not ruined!

A week later, as I reached to pull my cape over my shoulders, I again heard the sound of ripping fabric!  Once more, I returned to the tailor and she repaired the seam.  She assured me it was a temporary fix; what I really needed was to replace the entire sleeve.  A major reconstruction of a rather complex sleeve on an even more complex bodice.  But it has to be done!  Without it the gown is worthless!

Only at Christmastime can a ripped gown remind me of Jesus.  For at Christmas, the Son of God intentionally came to earth to breathe restoration into the broken, the ripped apart, the hurting.  He left the majesty and glory of heaven to step into the fragmented depravity of earth, offering the Way of permanent change and renewal.

The onset of his humanity was marked with rumors of brokenness and pain.  By human standards Jesus was born into a marriage forced by pregnancy. Joseph and Mary fully knew He was conceived by the Holy Spirit, but they no doubt experienced lots of knowing looks and judgmental comments. It was late in her pregnancy when they were required to make the arduous and obligatory travel to Bethlehem to register for the Roman census, a walking distance of over 90 miles.  They also endured the humiliation of being counted in the Roman census as Jewish people persecuted under Roman rule.

When Mary went into labor, there were no sanitary rooms at inns available to them.  Instead, they were offered an unhygienic stable where guests of the inn kept their travel animals.  Mary gave birth in the straw of an animal pen, and bedded down her newborn son in a dirty feeding trough.  Our Messiah began His earthly existence in a cold stable amid animal sounds and smells. An extremely humble entrance for the King of Kings!

Herod, the Roman appointed king of Judea, felt threatened when he heard from traveling Magi of the prophesied birth of a new king.  To protect his position and rid himself of a potential threat to the throne, he declared an edict that all young Jewish boys in Bethlehem be killed.  God directed Joseph and Mary to flee with Jesus to Egypt for two years until the danger passed.  But what deep sorrow occurred because of this massacre (see Matthew 2:18).  And what devastation and pain Joseph and Mary must have felt for the anguish and grief many experienced in the senseless deaths of their young sons due to Herod’s fear of their own son.

The details surrounding Jesus’ birth were far from serene.  Yet, His coming was completely intentional and perfectly timed by Almighty God.  Jesus broke into the brokenness of earth with the awaited hope and promise of a Savior. He descended heaven to shine light and love into the pain of Roman persecution, the emptiness of loss, the shame of humiliation, and the wounding of sin.  The world was desperately awaiting His rescue of broken, hurting, and lost souls.

Christmas today rings the same theme.  We welcome the celebration of Jesus’s birthday, for it powerfully pronounces God’s radical love for us in intentionally gifting us a way of salvation.  And yet, the beauty of Christmas falls against the reality of great brokenness and depravity in our world.  We cannot close our hearts to its reality.

The 21^st century also marks the mass genocide of babies, but unlike the first century, it justifies the slaughter of the unborn.  Senseless terrorist attacks occur with disturbing regularity, causing fear and anguish the world over.  The reality of racial targeting and discrimination persists, creating further division and intolerance within America and the world. Dictatorial rulers persecute their own people to selfishly gain personal power.  The travesties in Aleppo, Syria alone are heartbreaking.  The refugee crisis continues to worsen.  The sex slave industry is on the rise.

The brokenness of our world cries with desperation for a Messiah. 

In His great love, Jesus chose to come as Immanuel, God with us, and offer us the Way of hope and healing right in the middle of our brokenness. He is in the business of stepping into our raw hurt, fear and pain; of rescuing, giving new life, and offering healing to our hearts and souls. This is the very expression of His love for us, that He would enter all that’s dirty and broken and do a permanent work of heart restoration within us.  This is where we can best know Him and the reality of His love for us.

Isaiah prophesied the restoration Jesus would bring.  “There will be no more gloom for those who were in distress…the people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.  For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders.  And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. “ (Isaiah 9:1-2, 6)

This is a true riches to rags to riches story!

Yes, at Christmastime we celebrate the coming of our promised Savior King!  Yet, we must look to the greater picture – of centering our eyes on the eternal, on His promised return, where all things temporary will pass away, and the eternal become reality.

For the work of our Messiah is a radical rescue of hearts and souls.  It promises to never wear out, to weaken, to become threadbare.  As we look to see Him in the brokenness of this world, as we go through trials and loss, as our bodies age and falter, as we succumb to weakness, our God-with-us Savior promises us His presence, power, and help.  He assures us He will never leave us or forsake us.  He promises He will come back for us to take us home to live with Him forever.

Mission accomplished!  The house is now seasoned with Christmas.  And it feels appropriately magical.

Every year it looms….the scheduled day to hunt down the perfect tree, dragging of ornament boxes from the attic and wrestling with dysfunctional light strands.  This year we lost the battle with the lights.  Too many half lit strands and missing bulbs from two decade old light led to the quick decision to rezone them to the recycling bin and make a hasty trip to town for new ones.

But after the tree is lit comes the best part, my favorite part, the re-discovering and hanging of ornaments.  I usually lose the kids after a few minutes; their true interest being the traditional cheese & sausage, crackers, and eggnog that accompany the task.  I don’t rightly mind.  For me, unwrapping the ornaments is a nostalgic traipse through the unfolding story of family.  It is ripe with warm memories.

When my husband and I were first married, we started the tradition of cutting down our own Christmas tree.  This was an easy task in rural Ontario, Canada (a tradition that has proven much more challenging in North Carolina).  Our first Christmas stands out vividly in our memories, of driving through heavy snowfall along dark country roads, of slippery fish tailing, dodging snowdrifts, and a near wipe out.  Once at the farm, we leisurely wandered the back lot through deep snow, inspecting trees in the crisp night air by the glow of a full moon and the tingling of falling snow.  It was a moonlit winter wonderland, magical and romantic and exhilarating.  We contently wandered about till we found the perfect tree for our tiny apartment in
back of a Victorian farmhouse.

We started an ornament collecting tradition on our honeymoon without even realizing it.  We were two poor university graduates, honeymooning in Stowe, Vermont and Old Quebec City.  While in Vermont, we visited a
year round Christmas store.  We found the cheapest cute ornament we could, a wooden, snow covered mailbox, as a souvenir of our time there.  It cost a meager $1.79, but the memories remain priceless.  So began the tradition of adding one new ornament to our tree every Christmas.  Over the years, it has produced a treasured collection.  

Sometimes the ornaments were purchases, other times gifts.  Four very blessed years included “Baby’s First Christmas” ornaments.  Some items have names to represent the ornament giver: JD from Graduate InterVarsity, Gong Zhi from China, Angie from the girl’s home I worked at, Jed and Ennifer – neighbors Ed and Jennifer whose names my son kept reversing.  There are some cherished angel ornaments from foster families and the dear children I worked with, a delft blue candle from my cousin in Holland, and some very precious ornaments crafted by our children in their youthful years. I have also inherited some inverted Christmas balls from my youth, rich with visions of childhood.  Every ornament represents cherished memories and relationships, signifying a lifetime of blessings.  

 

 

 

 

 

December nights, I love to sit in the dark living  room, sipping tea in the glow of the Christmas tree.  These nights are filled with nostalgia of Christmas’s past, of friendships from previous places and life stages.  It is magical to gaze upon the tree at the ornamental reminders of life’s rich blessings.

Sometimes, at nights end, it’s hard to unplug the lights and turn the richness to darkness.  It’s a bit of a statement of how fleeting life is; a life marked by memorable people and places.  There it hangs in display, all twenty-nine Christmas’s of a great marriage filled with the richness of family and friendships.

It celebrates this present Christmas as well.  As I look at the tree, I anticipate my family gathering together on Christmas Eve, my daughter, son and daughter-in-law and their respective dogs spending the night, so we can continue to enjoy Christmas Eve and Christmas Day traditions together.  We will gather around the tree and linger long.  We will reflect on the goodness of our Heavenly Father in gifting us with a Savior.  We will fill stockings and exchange gifts of love with each other.  We will create new memories and share in the rich blessings of family and faith.

And we will add a new ornament to mark the growing memories and ongoing blessings.

Yes, the Christmas season is filled with the nostalgia of treasured traditions and memories, of magical moments, of celebrations and gatherings with loved ones.  All reflect the rich blessings of God in this wonderful season – the season that marks the gifting of His greatest blessing to mankind – His beloved Son.  Sending Jesus to earth to become fully man while being fully God, for the express purpose of sacrificially dying for our sins so we can receive unending life, is the most outrageously powerful expression of love imaginable.

This is the overriding beauty of Christmas! God’s great love expressed in the birth of Jesus is the anchor to all the beauty and nostalgia and celebrations of the season.

“But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy.  He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs having the hope of eternal life.” (Titus3: 4-7)